


Strawberry-Flavoured Kisses and Warm Milk

by seonghwazz



Series: Cinderella, But The Other Way Round [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Servant!Yeosang, backstory talk with joong and hwa, disgusted!mingi and woo, heir!hongjoong, i'll add more later, no beta we die like men, not slow burn at all, rich boy! jongho, rich boy!san, seonghwa and hongjoong are so sappy, servant!mingi, servant!seonghwa, servant!wooyoung, sexual fantasies, stable boi!yunho, waxing poetics. png
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seonghwazz/pseuds/seonghwazz
Summary: Hongjoong can't sleep. Neither can Seonghwa.The former finds himself tripping into the latter's arms.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Jeong Yunho, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Cinderella, But The Other Way Round [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742287
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Strawberry-Flavoured Kisses and Warm Milk

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Kissing, Talk about feeling sexually aroused. Don't like, don't read!

“hongjoong, did you just gay panic over a kitchen boy?”, mingi asks quietly that night.

the two of them have been at each other’s side since they were children. before hongjoong learned to treat his servants with respect (he was nine and following his father’s example), mingi would always be slapped, punched, and kicked whenever he did something wrong. that didn’t stop mingi from showering hongjoong with kindness, though. it was a rocky start, but they were best friends now, and that was all hongjoong and mingi cared about.

“no”, hongjoong sighs. “i did not.” 

“are you sure? because you were sweating. profusely.”

“so what if i did?”, hongjoong snapped. “i’m not supposed to be marrying him! but he does look nice”, he admitted.

“exactly”, mingi smirked. “i rest my case, hongjoong.”

“go to sleep, mingi”, hongjoong sighed. the lanky boy salutes hongjoong before flopping onto his single bed, his feet sticking out from underneath the covers. hongjoong decides to stay up a little later, slipping quietly out of the room to grab a snack. 

hongjoong’s obviously not watching where he’s going, because he bumps into someone. “oh my goodness, i’m so so-rry?”

seonghwa from the kitchen helps him onto his feet. in moonlight, seonghwa’s fine, delicate features are even more beautiful; hell, hongjoong thinks that he looks like a fairy. hongjoong feels his heart rate increase at least a mile a minute as he stares up into seonghwa’s glistening brown orbs; he was falling in love all over again.

“no need to apologise, sir”, seonghwa says, his eyes widening at the red-haired man’s beauty. “just doing my job. are you alright?”

“call me hongjoong. and yes, i’m fine. thank you very much for asking.”  _ damn _ , seonghwa thinks.  _ these rich men and their manners _ . “of course, h-hongjoong. so, what are you doing running around so late at night?” hongjoong chuckles dryly. “shouldn’t i be asking you that question?”

seonghwa , now being put on the spot, ducks his head embarrassedly. “i couldn’t sleep. i wanted to go get some warm milk from the kitchen.” hongjoong grins. “same here. want to go together?” seonghwa nods furiously, a smile tugging at his lips.

they awkwardly walk down the stairs and hall to the kitchen, seonghwa scolding the honey-haired male who had been talking with seonghwa that afternoon. “yeosang. go to bed. i’ll deal with the rest of the dishes, just go sleep.” honey boy-no, yeosang, gives seonghwa a winning smile and hongjoong a clumsy bow as he leaves the kitchen.

“why isn’t he asleep yet?”, hongjoong asks, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “all of the servants at home are off duty at ten at night.” seonghwa shrugged, running a hand through his hair.  _ beautiful _ , hongjoong thinks. “things work differently here. and yeosang was late to work this morning, so cook punished him by telling him to do all the dishes in the kitchen, even the ones we didn’t use. look who ends up having to help yeosang finish the remaining ones”, seonghwa grumbled good-naturedly.

“how many are left?”, hongjoong inquires. “i could help you, if you want.” seonghwa shakes his head. “not a lot. it’s alright; can you get the stove running? milk is in the icebox.” hongjoong opened the wardrobe-like refridgerator and took out the jug of milk, pouring some of it into the pan that seonghwa handed him. the redhead put the pan onto the stove, turning it on. he watched seonghwa finish off the ten or so dishes in the sink as the milk bubbled. 

“the milk’s done”, hongjoong announced, turning the stove off. seonghwa gave him two glasses, and hongjoong carefully poured the milk in. “perfect timing”, seonghwa said, impressed. “i just finished the dishes. give me my milk, please.” hongjoong handed seonghwa the glass, and they both sat there in silence, taking tiny sips of the warm comfort drink. hongjoong had attempted awkward small talk, complimenting on yesterday’s weather and telling seonghwa his last name.

“my mother used to make this for me whenever i had a bad day”, hongjoong blurts. “she added sugar and honey and it was way too sugary for my liking, but i always finished it.” seonghwa’s eyes widened in shock; “oh my lord, i’m so sorry”, he hastily added, bowing his head. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

“it’s okay”, hongjoong shrugged. “i don’t mind talking about it anymore.” his mother had passed away from a sickness that had rampaged hongjoong’s town. he’d been one of the lucky people who had managed to make a full recovery, and he didn’t live a single day without reminding himself of that. “hey”, hongjoong asked. “what dialect were you speaking this afternoon? i didn’t pick up on it.”

“it’s something from the south”, seonghwa says softly. “my family’s down south. yeosang comes from the same province as i do, but we’re not from the same town. that’s why we bonded; over favourite foods and dialects.” hongjoong nods in understanding; he understands how it feels to find someone who knew what you were talking about in an unfamiliar situation.

they both forgot about their positions on the social ladder for a moment. just talked to each other like two twenty-three year old men should, teasing and hitting each other lightly. hongjoong learns that seonghwa has been working since he was fifteen, and seonghwa learns that hongjoong would rather not marry. “i mean, i don’t understand the whole concept of being with someone for the rest of your life”, hongjoong admits. “it sounds fairly akward and stupid to me, if you know what i mean. plus, i don’t love jongho. i barely know him, and now my father’s chucking me into marrying him as what, a business pawn? i’m not an object. i don’t deserve to be thrown around on the chessboard!”, hongjoong rants, smashing his fist onto the table gently.

“i get it”, seonghwa whispers. “master choi- jongho’s father, i mean; he treats us like we’re invisible. like we’re here because we owed him something in the past life. we don’t”, seonghwa says bitterly. “when he does see us, he’s just staring at us like we’re dust on his shoe and it’s getting on my nerves.” hongjoong suddenly feels a connection with seonghwa; even though they were on entirely levels (well, regarding class), they faced the exact same struggles. 

“can i kiss you?’, hongjoong blurts. “your lips look delicious.”

“what?”, seonghwa asks, his face burning. “here?”

“yes.”

seonghwa loves hongjoong. he feels a connection with this redheaded male that he’s not felt with anyone else before; he doesn’t know why he feels so turned on when he’s with him. seonghwa slams his lips into hongjoong’s, the milk on the table long forgotten by now. the kiss is unpracticed and sloppy, but it’s still a kiss; still a symbol of love, of understanding, of barriers breaking. hongjoong boldly tastes seonghwa, his arm twisting around the dark-haired male’s waist. seonghwa tastes of honey and milk, and hongjoong basks in the taste, whining softly as seonghwa shifts on top of him.

“fuck, hwa”, hongjoong pants, pulling apart from the kiss. “fuck.”

“you want me to fuck you?”, seonghwa asks, his lips parting slightly. “what about jong-”

“no! i don’t. not yet”, hongjoong defends. “fuck, seonghwa. i love you so fucking much.”

“i love you too, hongjoong. fuck.”

they reluctantly parted that night, promising to meet each other again the next day. seonghwa can’t believe how the tables have turned; he was risking his job and friends for a man that he knew was betrothed to master choi’s son. how the fuck has he gotten himself in this posistion? 

it’s barely been ten minutes since he’s left hongjoong, but he’s already missing the man’s deep, moonpool-like eyes that shone like stars when their owner was talking about things that he loved. seonghwa wanted to learn absolutely everything about him; there was no going back now.

~

wooyoung is still awake when seonghwa comes back smelling of strawberries. “hyung, who you been fucking?”, the shorter boy murmurs teasingly, ignoring the scowl that seonghwa gave him. “nobody. it was just a kiss, is all.” wooyoung’s curiosity is peaking now. “who? oh my god, don’t tell me that it’s mingi.”

“who’s mingi?”, seonghwa asks. “the fiance’s personal servant. he’s pretty handsome.”

“i’ve been seeing his master”, seonghwa whispers awkwardly.

“what the FUCK?”, wooyoung exclaims, getting shushed by seonghwa when yeosang stirs. however, the exhausted boy goes back to sleep. “hyung, this is worse than me and san. fucking HELL, hyung! redhead’s been engaged to jongho! our employer!”

“i know”, seonghwa said tiredly. “i know. i’m fucking scared, woo.”

“don’t be. just; tone it down in public”, wooyoung finishes dramatically, before collapsing onto his bunk. seonghwa rolled his eyes. he felt a little reassured, but he was still terrified. he would be kicked out onto the streets and be forced to beg for food; seonghwa tried his hardest to push the image out of his mind, to no avail.

he decided to not see hongjoong that night. even if he loved him, he just couldn’t put his everything on the line; this was too big of a risk to take. 

~

“what the FUCK?”, mingi exclaims, as hongjoong embarrassedly tells him what happened the night before. “you two just kissed? that’s...wild, hongjoong.” hongjoong blushed, scratching his neck awkwardly. 

“look, master. i honestly don’t mind, but what about jongho? what about your father? i’ll lose my only friend if you get kicked out, hongjoong! please, think this through”, mingi pleaded. hongjoong shrugged. “i don’t love jongho. but when i’m with seonghwa, i feel… aroused. sexually.”

mingi wrinkles his face in disgust. “ewww”, he groans. “hyung, that’s gross!” 

“please, mingi”, hongjoong pleads. “don’t tell anyone.” mingi nods furiously. “why do you think i would? i’m the best at keeping secrets, hongjoong.” 

hongjoong gets dressed rather awkwardly that morning. he wants to impress seonghwa, but he knows that at the same time, he needs to be aware that he’s engaged to jongho. not a situation that he wants to be in, but he doesn’t have a say, does he? 

“sir”, mingi greets, hongjoong whirling around at the sudden noise. jongho is wearing a suit, and he’s smiling primly. “good morning, hongjoong”, he says. hongjoong plasters on the smile that he uses for his father and his old schoolteacher; it’s strained, but nobody ever realises how much pain he’s in when he uses the smile.

“good morning”, he says back. jongho extends his arm. “shall we head to breakfast?”, jongho asks politely. hongjoong takes jongho’s hand rather gingerly, mingi giggling quietly in the back. they pass seonghwa in the halls, the servant bowing to the two men before continuing down the hall. hongjoong and seonghwa share a glance, but both blush as they turn away. seonghwa understands wooyoung’s pain now; he oh-so-badly wants to drown in hongjoong’s gaze but he can’t.

“ah, have you met him yet? he’s park seonghwa, the kitchen boy”, jongho announces. “he’s, well, a friend of mine.” hongjoong nodded; of course he had met him. but he can’t possibly tell that to jongho; he’d get suspicious. “i’ll get to know him later”, he nods. 

breakfast is a quiet affair, with lord choi occasionally asking hongjoong and jongho about the weather. it’s painful small talk, and hongjoong wants to jump out of his seat and go running to the kitchen where he knows that seonghwa will be waiting for him.

he doesn’t, though. he can’t; it’s too much of a risk to take.

~

“what is wrong with you today?”, the cook scolds. seonghwa’s head is bowed, ears red from embarrassment. “burning food?” seonghwa’s face is burning. “i’m sorry. i’m not feeling myself today”, he apologised. seonghwa’s thought of nothing but hongjoong since the night before. he badly wants to meet hongjoong again, maybe even have dinner together.

the cook scowls. “i’m putting you on dish duty until further notice. yeosang, go chop the carrots.” yeosang and seonghwa are both kitchen boys, but seonghwa’s more experience than the honey-haired male. which is why yeosang’s on dish duty most of the time. said boy’s eyes are sparkling now, as he tosses seonghwa the rag.

great. his only emotional vent (aggressive vegetable chopping) has been taken away from him, and all he can do until the cook says so is to scrub aimlessly at bowls and plates and cutlery. could this day possibly get any better? the only thing that he was looking forward to, probably, was seeing hongjoong tonight. he reminisced about the kiss that he had slammed hongjoong into the night before, tasting strawberries-

“seonghwa! are you even listening?”, the cook yells in his ear. she bashes him on the head with her ladle, seonghwa now rubbing at the bruised skin. “stop daydreaming and get to work.” the dark-haired boy nods quickly, apologising again before throwing himself into his work.

the hours pass by quickly, cook instructing yeosang to season the soup that is being prepared. the smell wafts under seonghwa’s nose and his mouth waters; yeosang is going to be able to taste that. seonghwa finished with the dishes, and now he’s scrubbing the floor with a sponge. 

yeosang awkwardly has dinner with seonghwa in the kitchen later that night, after cook left for her quarters. “hyung, i’m sorry that you’re on-”

“it’s alright yeosang, really. you should be making the most out of this and not worry about me.”

yeosang nods, but seonghwa can tell that he’s unsure. “i’ll stay behind to finish the dishes. you go straight back to the quarters and get to bed as soon as possible; you need rest for tomorrow.” yeosang reluctantly leaves after side hugging seonghwa, waving him goodbye.

“i missed you, hwa”, hongjoong whispered from behind him, wrapping seonghwa into a hug that smelled familiarly of strawberries and cinnamon. “i missed you too, joong”, seonghwa whispered back, kissing hongjoong with the same fierce passion as he did last night.

the two men sat next to each other, entwined in each other's arms. both hongjoong and seonghwa forgot about their troubles and just appreciated the moment that they had with each other.

hongjoong was leaning in for a second kiss when the door slammed open, revealing jongho and yunho’s intertwined figures, the two of their lips passionately slammed together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! The epilogue is going to be written next but I haven't even started writing it so expect it to come out much, much later. 
> 
> And I'm sorry for the cliffhanger! Do tell if you prefer lowercase-intended writing over properly punctuated pieces. It really helps!


End file.
